


Thin Air

by ModestlyHomo



Category: Larry - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction, lourry - Fandom
Genre: I cried writing it, M/M, SO, enjoy??, uhm yeah well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 06:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModestlyHomo/pseuds/ModestlyHomo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s then that it mentally clicks. They’re going to die. </p>
<p>The jet is arching to the side, the pleasant hum from earlier has turned into a wallowing scream that’s attempting to burst his ear drums. </p>
<p>He then hears his name, so quietly he almost doesn’t catch it. Then he hears it again, and again, until he realizes its Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thin Air

**Author's Note:**

> well i literally wrote this in about an hour, but i had the idea and it made my chest ache so i wrote it. it's probably shite but hey i'm the queen of ripping out people's hearts i've been told so why not add this to the list.

 

5.45 am

 

The distant warble of an alarm going off cuts through whatever monochromatic dream Harry was having. He lets out a petulant groan, rolling on his side and hiding his face into the crook of his elbow. His mouth is cottony, and eyes are heavy; even the dull grey light coming in around the edges of his curtains is enough to make awaking that much more unpleasant.

He moves to cut off the annoyingly chipper marimba alarm, squinting at the painful amount of light emanating from his screen.

_Flight to Germany @ 8.45_

He groans again, before rolling out of bed.

 

 

6.32 am

 

It’s always hard saying goodbye to his mum and Gemma after coming home for a few days. He always hugs Anne last, because he knows she likes to hold onto him just a bit longer than everyone else. She always waves him off with watery eyes, tells him to come back in one piece.

Harry always does.

 

 

7.55 am

Heathrow is always painfully busy, and being ushered through mobs of fans in the early hours of morning is not his favorite thing in the world. But soon he’s led around a corner to an empty wing, and there the rest of the boys stand, looking equally tired.

As usual, Harry’s eyes land directly on Louis, who’s wearing trackies and a sweatshirt; his hair is soft and unstyled. Harry’s throat clenches and he moves to stand next to him.

“Morning, Harold,” Louis comments quietly, “How was your mum?”

He smiles softly, “Her usual self, doting on me and all.”

“What mums are for,” he says pointedly, and Harry can’t help but let out a small laugh that he hides in the back of his hand. Louis glances over at him, he’s got heavy bags under his eyes and the smile on his lips is less than convincing.

Harry thinks it would be courteous to ask him how Eleanor’s doing, but he doesn’t care, and doesn’t want to know. So instead, a stiff silence falls over all of them, and Harry just wants to cry.

Desperate kisses and fingers tangled in hair is what decides to nest in Harry’s memories until he’s sure it’s all that consumes him 24 hours of the day. He replays those sickly sweet moments over in his head every time he even so much as thinks of Louis. Remembers the way he didn’t push him away when he kissed him; instead pulled him impossibly closer, until they molded into one.

Harry tries desperately to forget because in the end it meant nothing; nothing that should be meant something at least, because of course it changed their relationship almost instantly. Louis stopped touching Harry altogether, stopped looking at him for prolonged moments when they thought no one else was watching.

It eats at Harry every moment of the day, the ache in his chest persistent; like his heart has been broken over and over until it’s become dust.

He’s not aware he’s staring at Louis until he turns to look at him, and the solemnness in his pale eyes is so overwhelming all other thoughts instantly scatter from Harry’s mind. He wants to reach out and touch him, make sure he’s okay, wants to kiss him and tell him he loves him so heartbreakingly much. But instead, he just stands there like a dead-weight and Louis just shakes his head before picking up his duffel bag and following security down the landing.

 

 

10.34 am

 

Harry’s never minded flying, especially when all of them are exhausted and decide to sleep most of the way. And it’s just like that today, Zayn and Liam are sitting next to each other passed out, Niall is dozing off watching some American movie, and Louis is just looking out the window opposite of Harry’s.

The hum of the jet’s engines is nearly melodic and it calms him, but it doesn’t help him sleep. Nothing helps him sleep, all that’s on repeat in his head is _Louis Louis Louis._

So instead, he rests his forehead against the window and watches the ocean pass from underneath them in a glimmer of blue and white. The clouds are breathtaking, reaching high in different luxurious formations with soft hues of blue playing around the edges. They cast giant shadows across the water below, and Harry wishes he could disappear in them.

 

 

11.03 am

 

He’s just on the hinges of sleep, eyes heavy and unfocused, mind pleasantly blank—when he hears something from the side of the plane. It’s not very loud, but enough to jolt him from his sleep.

“Louis,” he whispers, “Louis, did you hear that?”

“Hm?” He hums, not looking over at him.

“Did you hear that—“

A gut tossing noise of metal shredding as easily as a wet paper towel crashes through the plane, making its entirety lunge to the side.

Alarms blare from somewhere in the front of the jet, and an emergency light blinks on. Harry’s stomach has never dropped so fast in his life.

“What the fuck is going on?” He hears Niall yell, horrified, from the back.

_Please sit down immediately, fasten your seatbelts and place the oxygen mask over your face._

The intercom comes crackling over, and the masks drop down from the compartment above. Harry’s shaking so hard he can barely pull it over his face. He’s gasping in the stale air, feeling tears push hard at the back of his eyes.

_Please stay calm, one of the engines has stalled—we believe it’s some sort of debris. Please stay calm._

But even the steward sounds petrified, voice wavering.

Harry dares a glance out the window, angry black smoke is rushing from one of the engines, the world outside moving much too fast and downward.

“Are we going to die?” He hears Liam whisper frantically, he doesn’t dare look back at him, he hears the tears thick in his voice.

It’s then that it mentally clicks. They’re going to die.

The jet is arching to the side, the pleasant hum from earlier has turned into a wallowing scream that’s attempting to burst his ear drums.

He then hears his name, so quietly he almost doesn’t catch it. Then he hears it again, and again, until he realizes its Louis.

He looks over at him, feeling the tears come rushing as soon as he comprehends Louis’ huddled body, sheet white face and trembling lips.

“I’m so sorry,” he hears him say, and Harry shakes his head, unhooking the oxygen mask before stumbling across the aisle to the empty seat next to Louis.

Louis’ suddenly crying the hardest Harry’s ever seen in his life. Dread fills him so fully he can’t think of much else.

“We’re going to die, I’m so sorry—I’m _so_ sorry, Harry—“

“Stop _saying_ that, okay?” He yells, his face crumpling as he pulls Louis’ trembling body into his arms. “Stop apologizing for what I did—“

The engines are screaming, Zayn is yelling at the pilots, Liam and Niall are in shock, and the entire jet is shaking so violently it throws all of their items into the aisle. Harry’s heart is beating so fast, the thrum of his pulse is almost enough to drown out the rest of the noise.

He tries so hard to focus on Louis’ face buried into his neck, feels his hot tears come rushing onto his neck.

“Look—I want you to know—Louis, I want you to know something before—“ Harry’s crying so hard his words are broken into almost an incoherent mess.

They’re cutting through clouds now, their white innards zipping by so fast it nearly empties Harry’s stomach to see.

“I love you, alright?” He shouts above the engines, above the stewardess’ sobs, “I’ve loved you the moment I saw you, and I’m sorry for fucking it up that night. I’m so sorry, okay? It’s all my fault.”

Louis’ sobs grow even louder and he’s clutching onto Harry’s shirt as though it’ll keep him alive. The jet pitches angrily to the side, another horrifying metallic noise.

“I-I’m so sorry, Harry, for ruining us. I realized that night how much I loved you—and I knew it would never work. But—But I just, I do, Harry, I love you so much. I don’t want to die—“

Harry blanches, feeling the weight of death come sitting on his shoulders, he presses his nose into Louis’ neck, running his trembling fingers through his hair, realizing that this will be the last time. He sobs brokenly, “Promise me you’ll find me on the other side? You better fucking promise me, I can’t do this without you.” He shouts into his neck, squeezing his eyes shut as another sob swallows his voice.

“I’ll be there—“ he’s cut off by the sound of the wind ripping off the engine closest to their window, a noise that swallows every last ounce of hope, Louis lets out a petrified sob and pulls Harry even closer, “I’ll be there, I promise. I’ll be there, promise me we’ll be together. I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry for not telling you.”

His voice is a slur, and suddenly he feels hands on their shoulders. Harry looks up into the faces of all three boys behind them, they’re sobbing as well.

They don’t say anything to one another, can see the terrified farewells in their eyes.

_I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die._

The earth is approaching so fast, Harry all but wills it to slow down, just enough—just let him try and understand.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Louis.” He whispers hoarsely into the shell of his ear, rushed, crunched for time.

Louis looks up at him through his tear swollen eyes, so vividly close he can see every distinct eyelash and the red veins spidering out into the whites of his eyes. Can see his own reflection in their glassy appearance, but he finally see’s something else. Something he’s wanted for so long.

It’s that undeniable love, it’s there so strong, even though his eyes are crinkled as he sobs more, but they don’t break eye contact. “I always loved you, and I always will.”

Harry doesn’t dare look out the window. He nods, feeling his body seize it’s trembling.

“I’ll meet you on the other side.” He promises, and the scream of the engines becomes monotonous, feels Zayn, Niall, and Liam’s hands on his shoulders, gripping strongly. He hears a metallic clap, and nods to Louis, as heat presses all around them.

“I’ll find you, I promise.” Louis’ chanting when they meet the earth, and he feels nothing. It’s all he hears in a whisper on the backdrop of heat and land swallowing them.

The fear of death vanishes just before the entirety of their existences comes to a halt. Blinding white heat that fills him in and out presents him up and up.

The curtain closes with a ceremonious end of warped metal that crumbles and turns in the earth’s soil, the sweeping of stars encased in eternity.

 

 

Louis’ promise hangs on the edge of the universe— until answered by two souls becoming one star. 


End file.
